My soul cried last night and wept for hours without ceasing and it's lungs heaved trying to ascertain another asphyxiated breath filled with malicious lies, severed ties, and every other poisonous thing embroiled within the confines of my mind inside my world of hate. I tempted fate and danced in life's rain and slowly but surely sordid I became. I questioned repeatedly, was my life worth living? Or is my living in vain? Would I be able to fight through the pain? But more importantly, will I ever be able to win the war? The war in which nobody asked for, but the one in which nobody could prevent. I guess you could say that it's a war that I've been born and forced to live in, because there's no way to escape it when it's inside of your head and ever so prominent in your environment. It's a struggle being young, gifted, black, and queer. No, that was not a reference to my sexuality, but I guess I'll put that here; I'm a lesbian. So there it goes for all you non-crackerjack mofo's who insist on throwing that sh*t up in my face, and refuse to see past that and my race. Refuse to see my character, the beauty of my soul, and the warmth inside my heart; that the homophobe and/or the bigot over there tried to pick apart like the f*cking vultures that they are. See, for along time they were the cause for the fortification of that wall I've built around my heart, which prevented me from that thing called love. But all that changed when I met her. She meticulously removed each brick from my wall, which took years to build but only months to deconstruct. This enabled my feelings to run amuck. Her love began to flow through me and she told me to just let go, and those three little words accompanied by her love was enough to resuscitate my soul. Life no longer feels like another thing that I should loathe, but rather another thing that I should love. And I love it, and I live it to the fullest because my tomorrow is not promised. Peace
